


Domestic

by Orca2



Category: American Horror Story: Asylum
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 19:22:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19470511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orca2/pseuds/Orca2
Summary: Emotion, or lack there of.





	Domestic

Oliver’s dress shirt was wrinkled with sweat and grime. Wrists and ankles tied into slip knots. A ribbon drawn across his lips hushed his pleas for sanctuary. 

Lana curled her fingers around his gag. She flinched away as his jaw snapped forward. His canines clacked together.

“I would be a little nicer.” Her nails scraped his jugular. Oliver was a savage animal. His nostrils flare, eyeballs bloodshot. Rage poured from behind his cracked spectacles. 

“Lucky you, I’m still carrying that heathen.” Lana spat out those vile words. He scoffed through her chokehold.

“I won't fall for that again.” He’s a pig bound for slaughter. In the same position she and many other girls had endured. Lana tightened her grip on the knife at her side. 

“Sister Mary informed me that I had been unsuccessful. But I can change that very quick.” The blade gleamed before his face. 

Vulnerability was an odd accessory to his sociopathic visage. Watery glaze obscured his vision.

“Stop it.” His voice cracked. Oliver gasped, and writhed on the floor. Limbs tugged at their bind. She felt his pulse hammer in his carotid artery.

This was the same reaction as earlier. His horrible exoskeleton melted away, to reveal his mushy insides. 

“She also told me it was a boy.” Lana released his neck and his lungs heaved for air. “I’m sure you were hoping for a girl, you could rape it just like you did its mother.” 

_ Sweat cascaded from his body. His torso was lean, like that of a model. It sparked nothing inside her, at most an aesthetic appreciation. He moved with the fervency of someone starved, though the moment felt longer than eternity. _

_ His fingertips stroked the skin on her stomach, probably wondering what it would look like on a lampshade. The feeling he evoked within her was numb and detached. The faint sensation she experienced was varied. _

_ Discomfort, and more prominent, disgust. He bumped up against her insides in an unfamiliar way. It felt like maggots were crawling around her guts. A parasite she wanted to rake out with her nails. _

_ An even smaller feeling was evoked. The vague intimacy. Oliver caged her in a protective way. Pleasure was stirred there in the depths. This made it even more horrible. _

_Sex was the closest you could be to someone, and death the farthest. The most secret sensitive parts interlocked together. She could have gone her whole life never experiencing this._

_ She could almost forget where she was. In a room of bleached linoleum tile, where her dead lover once lay. Teeth ripped from her gums. Scalpels and surgical tools lining the walls. A mask of a skinned human face on the tabletop. _

“No, I would love a boy.” This man was a cold, clinical doctor. With a hobby for flaying human flesh. Now he was sobbing at the prospect of becoming a father.

Lana laughed in disbelief. How twisted of a world he lived in. 

A crash echoed down the hallway. She glanced over the mattresses he was hidden behind. No more than flickering fluorescent and empty tile. She crouched down and lowered her voice. The shelves stacked in the corner he was hidden loomed above.

“What do you want from me? I’ll do anything for him.” His bound hands reached towards hers. She yanked it away.

“A life of serial murder and you’ll turn that around for some squirming infant?” Her knife clanked on the floor. 


End file.
